


Matilda's Match

by tenshi6



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 07:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10329731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenshi6/pseuds/tenshi6
Summary: Harry is desperate not to be seated at the singles' table at his best friends' wedding, but he just can't get a date. In his despair, he turns to a company to hire an escort. Under such short notice, he must take whoever is free. We can all guess, who he ends up going with.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [limericklove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/limericklove/gifts).



> Written for [Dralentine's Day](http://dralentines-day.tumblr.com/).
> 
> A/N: I'm planning to write a sequel but with so much going on in my life right now, it may take a while.

**Matilda’s Match**

“Hey man, just wanna give you a fair warning. Hermione’s ‘bout to seat you at the single’s table.”

It took Harry a good moment to process the meaning of words, and even after that, he was only able to come up with “Beg your pardon?”

Ron groaned, obviously uncomfortable with this phone conversation. It took Hermione quite some time to convince Ron that even though owls were great, he should also get a cell phone.

“I know, man, it sucks, I’m sorry, but you _are_ single.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll still be single at the wedding,” Harry retorted, though he sounded more desperate than offended.

“Harry, you’re a great guy and all, but let’s admit, relationship’s just not your thing.”

“Gee, thanks, Ron.” Harry sighed. “Please, don’t seat me there, I will get a date, I promise.”

“Hermione said that seating is very difficult.”

“Please, Ron, I’m your best friend!” Harry wasn’t pleading, but he would if he had to.

“Wedding’s in three month,” Ron reasoned.

“And I’m Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the boy who defeated Voldemort. I can get a date in three months, trust me.”

He could hear Ron thinking, considering the offer. He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he let out a relieved sigh when Ron finally answered “Fine, I’ll do what I can. Don’t let me down, man.”

“Thanks! Have I told you I loved you?”

Ron hung up, but at least Harry didn’t have to sit with the singles. Not that he had a problem with single people since he was one of them, but at weddings, every normal person managed to get themselves a date and only the crazy ones were left. Harry didn’t want to spend Ron and Hermione’s wedding talking to old ladies about their cats.

He had three months to get a date, how hard could that be?

**2 months and 28 days later**

It was apparently very hard. Impossible, to be frank. The wedding would be in two days and Harry was still single. Worse, he had no one to call, since all his friends were invited as well and he did promise a date, he couldn’t show up with a ‘friend’. Anytime Ron or Hermione had asked, he waved them off, telling them it was a secret, a surprise for them. Well, they were surely in for a big surprise because apparently Harry was a goddamn liar. He ran out of options and that is the only excuse he could convince himself with when he picked up the phone and dialled the number Dean had subtly slid into his pocket a few weeks ago when they went out drinking. The small card was starting to come apart from all the rubbing and folding Harry did in the past days, as he was considering.

The lady was especially helpful after Harry had told her who he was, and he managed to get an appointment next afternoon. He leant back in his armchair and sighed. There was no turning back now.

The next day Harry had to force himself not to back out like a coward. It was ridiculous that he, who had defeated Voldemort was scared to admit his love-life was pathetically uneventful. He knew he was probably an idiot with the whole _‘I have to find the right one’_ cliché, but he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t bear being around people who only loved him because he was famous and rich. He wanted someone to love him for being himself, why was it too much to ask for?

The place was a little further down Diagon Alley and it looked surprisingly normal. Harry expected it to be a bright red store with huge, enchanted statues of hearts singing silly songs about finding love but instead it was a small, neat office, with darkened windows and lovely flowers. Above the entrance the company’s name stood in gold, curly letters. Matilda’s Match.

The company didn’t only focus on matchmaking, they also had a wide selection of escorts, for people who seek momentarily pleasure as well for people who would like some intellectual company. Harry needed the latest, with the addition of said someone to play his boyfriend. In other words, he needed a talented fake boyfriend.

Since he had come this far and really, it was still better than admitting that he was unable to get a date on his own and show up to the wedding alone, disappointing his friends, he braced himself, put on his best smile and pushed the door open.

At the counter, a red haired witch in simple, crimson robe looked up and greeted him with a bright flash of teeth.

“Mister Potter, we’ve been expecting you!” She said as she went around the counter to shake Harry’s hand. Then she gestured at a leather couch by the window. “Please, have a seat.”

Harry nodded and did. He had his doubts and was pleasantly surprised by the professional atmosphere. He was also silently grateful for the secretary girl, who didn’t give him a funny look or asked for an autograph.

Not even a minute passed when one of the white doors opened and a woman around 30 in business casual walked out. For a second, Harry thought she was a client in Muggle clothes, but then she approached him with a confident, warm smile.

“Mister Potter, welcome,” she said while shaking Harry’s hand. “My name is Cheryl Matilda. Please, come in.”

“Harry Potter,” Harry replied with a nervous smile then followed the woman inside.

In an instant, he found himself in another world. The walls were covered with enchanted paintings of trees, several pots of flowers standing on the huge oak desk, the window across showing snow-topped mountains in a distance, and even the air smelled green and fresh. He had to blink to make sure he didn’t accidentally touched a portkey or something, but there was the desk with two chairs in the middle of the room, and several chest of drawers lining a wall.

Cheryl sat down and Harry obediently followed, grasping his knees to calm down.

“I have to say, Mister Potter, it’s an honour to have you in our office,” she started, leaning forward a little. “Please rest assured that all that’s spoken behind that front door is strictly confidential.”

“That’s a relief,” Harry smiled. “And please, call me Harry.”

She nodded, and tried the word “Harry,” before continuing. “Our company handles all sort of requests. We employ escorts from all range and as our clients all have individual taste, we try to adjust our employees to the request.” She took out a folder and handed it over to Harry. It contained several colourful flyers and a ten paged contract. “Please know that the types of requests range from simple pleasures to strictly intellectual partners, therefore we prefer to use the term ‘partner’ instead of ‘escort’.”

Harry hummed while flipping through the flyers, feeling both nervous and excited. It was very strange, or at least, it should feel strange, but he rather liked the place, Cheryl, and their policy. It looked promising. Perhaps he should thank Dean later. On second thought, he should definitely not let him know that he had ever set foot here.

Cheryl coughed a little to catch his attention, her plum coloured lips forming a small, encouraging smile. “There’s no need to be nervous, Harry, I’m only here to help you find a great match.”

“Oh, yes, sorry, I’ve just-”

“You’ve never done this before?” She asked helpfully.

Harry grinned sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re not the first one, I can assure you.”

Harry had to admit that a bit of joking was absolutely a great way to ease some of the tension.

“Regarding our catalogue, you must know that we do not include photographs, for privacy reasons, but you will receive a detailed description of their personality and appearance approved by either me or another colleague. In case someone catches your interest and you would like to schedule an appointment, you must sign the contract. It is to ensure that both you and your chosen partner will treat this matter privately. Your future partner will have to sign the same contract, of course.”

It was a lot to take in. Harry wasn’t exactly happy that there would be no pictures. However it was not the right time to be picky, which reminded him to share his case with Cheryl.

“Actually, I know this is very late, but I need a date for tomorrow. For the weekend. I’m attending a wedding.”

Cheryl frowned. “I am truly sorry, but in such a short notice-”

“It’s an emergency. I’m willing to pay double and take whoever is free for the weekend.” Harry hoped he didn’t sound too desperate. “I only need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend, so I can introduce him to my friends.”

Cheryl was thinking hard, Harry could tell. He did his best to look hopeful and soon, Cheryl tilted her head “Well, let me check who’s available.”

Harry could release his breath at last. “Thank you!”

She smiled politely then left for a few minutes. When she returned, she was holding three small parchments.

“They are the only ones I could get,” she said apologetically, which made Harry feel bad for a second. He was asking for a huge favour so there was no need for Cheryl to apologise.

She sat back in the chair and slid the parchments over the table. Harry grabbed the one closest and read the top. Black Flower. He quirked an eyebrow.

“We use fantasy names for all our employees. Some find it cheesy, but we prefer it to numbers. Numbers feel less personal, and we are not selling away cattle,” she explained.

Harry made a small chuckle and glanced at Cheryl. “You are absolutely right.”

He quickly read the description but knew he wouldn’t choose this one after he saw that the age was 20. Way too young. He hoped the two others would be older, or else he would have to go with this, or even worse, with no one. There had to be an acceptable one among those two.

Velvet Snake and Furry Owl.

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. Yes, the names were definitely cheesy, and he nearly winced when he read them, but this was not the time to be judgemental. Velvet Snake appeared to be a bit of a snob but Furry Owl liked celebrity gossip, so really, Harry had to choose who was the least risky.

So, either a very young one, or the snob. Harry ruled out Furry Owl real fast. Okay, he could do something about conversations but not with age, so he pointed at Velvet Snake after a bit of hesitation.

“This one. I would like him for the weekend.” It sounded very wrong but he ignored it.

Cheryl’s face lit up. “Excellent choice, Harry, I’ll inform him right away. Now, shall we sign the contract?”

 *

Harry seriously considered running away and living in exile for the rest of his life. There were a lot of things that had been discussed with Cheryl, and he was still trying to wrap his head around it. His chosen partner accepted the request pretty fast, thanks Merlin, and Cheryl scheduled a meeting for them the next day, which was the pre-day of the wedding. He was assured that since Velvet Snake already said yes, it only depended on Harry whether he would go along with or not. Although Cheryl stated several times that he would not be disappointed in the man, she also made sure Harry understood he can still call it off. However, truth was, Harry had spent way too much money and energy on it to back out and since it was his last chance he didn’t really have much of a choice.

He couldn’t be that bad, after all. He was around 25, the same age as Harry, athletic and clever. He was interested in Potions which was a little odd to Harry, but apparently he liked Quidditch so surely they would have a common topic at least. He could do it, he said to himself in the mirror before grabbing his duffel bag and jacket, and Apparated to the meeting point.

It was a neat little coffee shop near King’s Cross and though Harry briefly considered meeting in someplace in the Wizarding World, he decided a Muggle place suited him better. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a problem for his escort or partner or whatever the proper term was. Harry couldn’t really figure out how to call him in his mind since he would rather not refer to him as Velvet Snake.

He ordered a mint iced tea and sat down by the window, watching people pass by while he chewed on the red straw. He glanced at his watch. It was five minutes until eleven. He had just managed to relax a bit when the door opened and he heard an all too familiar voice which he didn’t really want to hear now, out of all situations. Looking up, his suspicion was confirmed. Draco Malfoy entered the café and went straight to the counter, leaning on it with a dashing smile as he ordered.

Harry swore under his breath in parseltongue and looked away, hoping that the Slytherin wouldn’t notice him. A whole minute passed. Then another. It was starting to cause Harry physical pain not to look at a certain way. The door didn’t open so far. There were approaching footsteps. He was very down on his luck.

As soon as Draco got his Latte Macchiato he turned and walked up to Harry, grinning slyly. Harry refrained from flinching when Draco sat at the table. He looked way too cheerful.

“Potter, how wonderful to see you!”

“Malfoy,” Harry greeted him with cool politeness. “Actually, I’m waiting for someone, so if you would-”

Draco chuckled. “Yeah, I know,” he said while he reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of parchment. It was a contract, the same one Harry had just signed a day before. “I’ve never thought I would say this, but you have great taste in men.”

Realization was a hit in the face with a brick and Harry was left gaping at Draco like a fish. “You- you’re… Velvet Snake?” Harry stuttered, bewildered.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Still not very sharp, eh?”

Harry ignored the comment. “Wha- how-why did you accept?” He was truly curious.

Draco tilted his head then let out a short laugh. “That’s funny, because I’m not really sure. Guess I just wanted to see your face when you realised. You’re gonna call it off anyway, aren’t you?”

The idea did cross Harry’s mind, but in the end he said, horrified. “No, I can’t.”

The mocking grin immediately disappeared from Draco’s face as he frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”

Harry rubbed his face with both hands before answering. “I don’t have time to find someone else.”

Draco blinked. “You’d rather pretend we’re boyfriends for a whole weekend?”

“Believe me, it pains me a lot,” Harry admitted.

“You’re joking, right? Getting back at me for all those years.”

“No, Malfoy, I’m not,” Harry said with a serious expression.

Draco buried his face into his palms. For a long minute, neither of them said anything. This was a disaster and the wedding hadn’t even started. What would everyone say? What would they think? How could he spend a whole weekend pretending to be Draco’s boyfriend? He should call it off, admit his defeat, beg Hermione not to seat him at the single’s table and-

“Fine.” Draco’s voice was a barely audible hiss, but to Harry it rang as loud as church bells. He stared at Draco, watched him remove his hands from his face and compose himself. He reached into his bag again and pulled out a parchment and a quill. “Well then, we better get to work. What’s your favourite colour?”

“Wha- what does it matter?”

Draco gave him a funny look. “These are warm up questions, Potter.”

This took a very sudden turn, Harry wasn’t sure he could follow.

Draco took sip from his coffee. “We need a cover story.”

“Cover story?” Harry echoed.

Draco looked annoyed. “Yes, Potter, a cover story. Your friends gonna ask all sort of questions about you, about us, so we better make sure we lie about the same things at least!”

“Shh, not so loud.”

“Then stop being so bloody dumb and answer the questions. What’s your favourite colour?”

Harry reluctantly replied “Red.”

“Excellent. See? It wasn’t that hard. Mine is silver. Now, are you an early bird or a night owl?”

*

“I can’t believe I’m paying for this,” Harry sighed as he parked his black Mitsubishi in the parking lot of the small mansion which Ron and Hermione rented for the event. They considered both the Burrow and their two-story house but in the end decided it was better to rent a place as it would be easier to house all guests there. There was going to be a garden party and dinner with close friends and family today and then the wedding would take place in the next day, followed by a fancy wedding reception with far more people invited. The guest list included Muggles and wizards and witches alike.

“Believe me, I’m not happy either.”

Harry glared at him. “At least you’re _getting_ paid.”

Draco grinned smugly then gently slapped Harry on the shoulder. “C’mon, we can do this.”

“If you tell anyone-” Harry started warningly.

“Geez, Potter, stop being such an idiot. I signed a contract, a magical one, remember?”

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Draco was right. They couldn’t slip, it was just not possible. So everything depended on them and he had to admit Draco was a rather talented actor, so really, it came down to him. And he was not going to fall behind a Malfoy. He opened the door.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!”

*

They went to the reception to check in and Harry handed over his car keys so their bags would be carried to their room while they were having fun in the garden. He showed the invitation and a man in simple grey suit lead them to the back of the mansion, into a huge park with lovely flowers and very old oak trees. It was a beautiful place to get married, Harry thought.

Most of the guests were already there, the Weasley and the Granger family, Dean and Seamus, Neville, Luna, Cho, and even Andromeda with Teddy came. Those were the people Harry instantly recognised and his stomach did a backflip.

It was like in the movies. As soon as they came close enough, the happy chit-chat died and every head turned to them. Thankfully, the music kept going, sparing Harry from the awkward silence. Draco quietly coughed and bumped his shoulder into Harry’s. Harry looked at him, a silent message passed between them, and then he linked arms with Draco.

Luna was the closest and therefore the first to greet them, dragging Ginny along.

She wrapped her arms around Harry and pulled him into a tight hug. “Harry, it’s so nice to see you,” she said and then turned to Draco. Harry’s heart skipped a beat but then Luna gave Draco a hug as well, shocking the Slytherin. “Draco, it’s great to see you, too. So, you’re Harry’s secret boyfriend?”

To Draco’s credit, it took him only a second to get his shock under control and then he flashed a dashing smile at Luna, leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. “Not so secret anymore, I guess.”

She giggled and slapped his shoulder playfully. Harry had never thought he would witness a scene like that and judging by Ginny’s frown, she was pretty much thinking the same. Harry was suddenly proud of Draco, even though it was only an act on his behalf.

One by one, they greeted everyone and exchanged a few words, Neville being a bit wary but still shaking Draco’s hand, Mrs Weasly giving Draco a bear hug, Teddy jumping right into Draco’s arms who caught him in the last minute, nearly giving Andromeda a heart attack. It was oddly normal and Draco acted surprisingly nice. Obviously, he was bounded by the contract, but Harry still expected him to find a way to be a prick.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed and Harry barely had time to turn before his vision was blocked by long brown locks as Hermione gave him a hug.

“Hi, Draco,” She turned to Draco, who in one hand was holding Teddy’s and in the other, a plate full of sweets and cakes. Teddy was busy putting more food onto it, occasionally stuffing a cookie or a brownie into his mouth.

“Malfoy,” Ron said coolly. Harry didn’t like his tone, but it was understandable.

“Hi, Granger, Weasley.” Draco nodded, and gestured at his occupied hands. Harry had a feeling he didn’t mind not being able to shake hands and it made Harry a bit angry. He needed to talk to him about it later, but for now, Hermione slapped at his arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was Draco?” She glared at Harry accusingly and then turned to Draco, her tone apologetic. “Sorry, if I had known, I would have sent an invitation to Pansy and Blaise.”

“Um, no, thanks, it’s fine,” Draco said politely. He really didn’t need his friends to know about _this_ , though he was fairly sure they would know it by Monday the latest when the Prophet had Potter’s face featured yet again on the front page.

“Hey man, can I talk to you for a second?” Before Harry could blink, Ron grabbed his arm and dragged him a bit farther away. Hermione shot her soon-to-be-husband a meaningful look, but Ron waved her off. Draco didn’t seem to mind and turned his attention back to Teddy, who was rather pleased with the audience.

“For Merlin’s sake, Harry, what’s going on?” Ron hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.

Harry frowned. “What? I told you it would be a surprise.”

“Stop looking so pleased, you should have given me a warning at least.”

Harry put a hand on Ron’s arm, squeezing it a little. “He’s not gonna spoil anything, don’t worry, he’s not like he was at school.” He wasn’t a hundred percent sure about the last part, but Ron didn’t need to know that.

“We’ll see about that,” said Ron dubiously, then held up a finger in warning. “One wrong look at my family and I’ll hex him into oblivion.”

“I’ll help you.”

Ron grinned, relieved that Harry hadn’t completely lost his mind. He glanced at Draco and then back at Harry. He snorted, “Malfoy, huh?”

Harry felt his ears burning and pushed his best friend out of the way with a quiet “Shut up.”

Ron’s laugh followed him.

*

The afternoon passed in a rather fine mood. A few people, namely Neville, Seamus and Cho were still a bit wary of Draco, but Harry knew it was only general dislike which started back at school, not real hate. Shockingly, Draco was nice to everyone. It was strange to see how kind and polite he could act, how he would let Teddy drag him wherever he had wanted to and how he even managed to compliment Mr Weasley’s knitted jumper without any second meaning. It was almost alarming, but Harry figured it was probably because he had expected Draco to be a total prick and it was kind of annoying to see how wrong he had been.

Dinner followed, with a simple meal of turkey and pork served with baked potatoes and fresh salad. Nothing too grandiose, that was saved for later, for the wedding. It was only a nice meal with friends and family and Harry found it wonderful.

Happy chit-chat filled the place, the conversations ranging from Ministry work to embarrassing childhood stories. Hermione was telling Dean and Seamus about the first time she took Ron to the amusement park, and by the time she was finished, Ron’s ears were burning while Dean and Seamus were practically howling with laughter. The story of Ron freaking out in a photo booth when Hermione was trying to do what normal couples do was always a good choice. It was even better since Hermione had the strip of photos, and never missed a chance to show it around. Harry had heard the story and seen the pictures at least ten times already but still chuckled politely, then turned his attention to his fake boyfriend.

“Yes, we have visited it several times and it _is_ wonderful,” Draco agreed. He was talking to Fleur across the table and they both looked rather passionate about the topic. It was something about French gardens and statues. Fleur said something in French to which Draco replied in French and Harry had to swallow. He had no clue what they said, but to hear Draco in another language, well, it moved something inside Harry.

“Right, darling?” Draco turned to him with an affectionate smile and Harry gaped. Draco rolled his eyes, then ruffled his already messy black hair as he turned back to Fleur. “Guess he had too much champagne.”

Fleur giggled.

It was getting too much. Harry’s head was spinning and not because he was drunk. He wished he was. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t pretend this, he had no idea why he ever thought it would be a good idea and he couldn’t wrap his head around this new, all fun and kind Draco.

“I better take him outside for some fresh air.”

He was so distracted by his own distress he barely realized Draco pulling him to his feet and pulling him out of the restaurant. They didn’t stop until they were out in the garden. Draco looked around then pulled out his wand for a sound proof spell. Once he made sure it was okay, he turned to Harry, his expression familiar. This version of Draco, Harry knew.

“The hell Potter? Get yourself together or this whole thing will blow into your stupid face!” He hissed, staring at Harry with hands on his hips.

Harry shook his head, his thoughts a bit clearer now. “I can’t do this, it was a bad idea.”

“Of course it was a bad idea, it was your stupidest idea, but there’s no turning back now.”

“Look, I can’t pretend, I’m not a Sly-” he bit his tongue. He didn’t mean to be rude and make Slytherin sound like a swear word, but he couldn’t trick Draco. Draco stared at him, unimpressed.

“I’ve been called worse,” he said with a shrug, then pointed at Harry. “And you nearly got sorted into Slytherin, so you must have it in you.”

Harry grimaced. Draco was right about the first part, but he wasn’t sure about the second. A minute passed. Then another. And another. Harry was sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest. He was silent. Draco couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Listen,” he started as he sat beside Harry, causing him to blink at him confused. “Stop looking at me like a house elf, Potter!”

Harry was just about to apologise, but instead he grinned. It was the old Draco and he felt strangely comfortable. He then started laughing and Draco stared at him, worried.

“Have you been cursed?”

“Sorry, I just- it’s so strange, but now, it feels like we are back at Hogwarts, fighting like two stupid teenagers.”

“We were stupid teenagers,” Draco said, then smirked smugly. “Well, you were, I was only a teenager.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Modest as ever.”

“See? You can do this. This is all we have to do back there.” Draco nodded towards the mansion.

A troubled sigh left Harry’s lips. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“Because you’re different.”

Draco tilted his head, waiting for Harry to explain.

“You act differently. You’re nice to everyone and, and, you’re always so close to me.”

Draco furrowed his brow. “In case you forgot, I’m here to pretend to be your boyfriend. It’d look rather strange if I’m keeping my distance.”

“I know, I know, but it’s strange.”

“It makes you uncomfortable,” Draco noted quietly and Harry’s heart sank a bit at the tone. Draco wasn’t sad or angry, he said it as a matter of fact, like he was used to it. He probably was. Suddenly, Harry felt like an asshole.

“I’m sorry, it’s not because-”

“Please don’t.” Draco cut him off. He stood up and walked away. Harry could only watch as he disappeared into the building. He was the one who dragged Draco into this mess and when he was trying to help, he only managed to be a major ass. He had to fix it.

Trying to clean his mind a bit, he got to his feet.

Going inside, he almost immediately spotted Draco talking to Ginny, Luna and Cho. He started walking towards them, but Hermione blocked her way. She looked equally worried and angry.

“Did you guys fight?”

“What? No.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes and Harry suddenly felt very small. He looked away.

“Maybe,” he said quietly and before Hermione could start a lecture, he added “but it’s not really a fight, more like, I don’t know what, but it wasn’t really a fight.”

Hermione sighed. “Look, you should talk. I’ve been watching you and you’re acting weird and I can see it makes Draco feel bad. Do you,” she lowered her voice and looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “Are you ashamed of him?”

The weight of her words knocked the wind out of Harry’s lungs. Was that how he was acting? Was that the impression his friends got? Was he making Draco feel that way while he was doing everything to keep his end of the bargain? If Harry felt bad before, he was devastated now.

Hermione bit her lower lip. She looked really uncomfortable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, you’re right,” Harry said quickly, then shook his head. “I mean, I’m not ashamed or anything, I just, I don’t know, I was very nervous about him coming, about introducing him and I was afraid of the reactions.”

“Harry, there is no need to be afraid of that,” said Hermione with a small smile, squeezing Harry’s shoulder a little. “We’re your friends, we want you to be happy and he’s not that bad.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, not being able to mask his shock. “Really?”

A short yet loud laugh erupted from Hermione. “Really. I mean, have you seen how much Teddy likes him? And I’ve heard him speak French with Fleur and talk to Mrs Weasley about various potions to make her house plants bloom all year. Can you believe _that_?”

Harry blinked. There it was again, that feeling of being proud of Draco.

“Just go and sort it out. Don’t want to see your long face during my wedding.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Ron’s a bad influence on you.”

Hermione slapped his shoulder playfully, grinning. Harry grinned back and then turned away to find Malfoy only to find Ginny, Luna and Cho talking to each other. No Draco. He looked around but he was nowhere to be seen. For a terrible second, he thought he had left, but then remembered the contract. Surely, he was just cooling off somewhere or went to bed.

He was about to go check their room when Ron and Charlie appeared, dragging Harry into a heated conversation about dragons until Hermione came to the rescue, stating that if Ron had even thought of getting a dragon, she would divorce.

“Wha-? You can’t just do that!” Ron exclaimed indignantly.

“Try me,” Hermione retorted, causing Charlie to burst out laughing and that was the moment Harry slipped away. He almost reached the stairs when Percy caught up to him and Harry had to discuss the newest regulation on performing magic in front of a Muggle.

Thankfully, the evening couldn’t stretch forever as Mrs Granger kindly reminded everyone that the wedding would be tomorrow and all the guests, especially the bride, needed a beauty sleep. Harry couldn’t have agreed more, though he didn’t plan on sleeping just yet.

As he had hoped, Draco was in their room, sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall and reading. He glanced up when Harry entered and put the book down, straightening himself a bit.

“Look, I’m sorry I got angry. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Harry was taken aback. Was he dreaming? Did Draco Malfoy really just apologise to him? It was absurd, but before he could do something stupid again and offend Draco, he said “No, I should be the one apologising. I was an idiot. Sorry.”

Draco stared at him for a long moment before the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a satisfied grin. “You _are_ an idiot.”

The insulting words were on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but he swallowed and instead settled for an eye roll.

“You know, we should work on it a bit more,” Draco said in a more serious tone while Harry went to his bag to pull out his sleeping T-shirt and sweatpants. He stopped halfway and frowned at Draco. It was his turn to roll his eyes.

“Your boyfriend skills? There will be more guests tomorrow.”

“And how do you exactly plan to work on it?”

“Like it’s normally done? Talking, for starters. We should get to know each other.”

Harry grabbed his clothes before replying “Malfoy, we’ve known each other since eleven.”

“Have we?”

Harry paused to consider. Slowly, he turned around and with a sigh, admitted “You know what? You’re right.”

“I am always right.”

“Why do you have to be so annoying?”

Draco snorted, but a small grin was playing across his features. “I’ve spent most of the day acting nice. Give me a break.”

Harry started laughing and sat on the bed. This, he could do. “Okay, talking. What should we talk about?”

“Well, we already discussed the most basic stuff, so nothing in particular. Just tell me something you like,” said Draco with a shrug.

Harry nodded and opened his mouth, then closed. His mind went blank. What did he like? He had no idea what to talk about. Obviously, Draco saw that, because after two eternally long minutes he scoffed.

“You know what? I’ll start.”

He was stuck as well.

They exchanged a look and then both started laughing.

Draco shook his head, unable to wipe the grin off his face. “Merlin’s bollocks, we’re bad at this.”

Harry had to agree and suggested “You wanna watch some trash telly?”

Draco breathed out relieved. “Gods, yes.”

It was as good a start as any.

Two and a half hours later they were both lying on the bed, Harry in his PJs while Draco still fully dressed, a bag of apple rings and several opened boxes of chocolate frogs between them. They were both rather tired, but none of them could stop talking.

“I can’t believe you didn’t at least suspect he was the killer,” Harry shook his head, chewing on an apple ring.

“What? How would I? He looked really innocent!” Draco claimed and threw an empty paper box at him. Harry ducked with a grin and retorted “That’s exactly why he was suspicious!”

“That police woman was far more suspicious.”

“Yeah, they wanted to make you think she was the murderer, so you wouldn’t guess correctly.”

“Damn this bloody Muggles,” Draco hissed and bit off a head of a chocolate frog ferociously.

Harry chuckled. “It’s because you’re just scratching the surface of the wonders of Muggle TV shows. You’ll know better, once you watched a lot.” An idea popped up in his mind and he sat up excitedly, knocking a few sweets aside. “Hey, you know what? You should totally watch this kinda new TV show, it’s called How to get away with murder. It’ll blow your brains!”

Draco tilted his head dubiously. “Well that doesn’t sound very reassuring.”

“Just give it a try, it’s awesome, I swear.”

Draco laughed. “Fine, okay, I will. But now we should really get some sleep. Granger will kill us if we oversleep.”

Harry waved him off. “Nah, she wouldn’t ruin her wedding. She would kill us afterwards.”

Draco pursed his lips a little while thinking, then asked in feigned worry “She grew up watching these crime shows, didn’t she?”

For a moment, Harry stared at him shocked and Draco thought he had messed it all up, but then Harry’s mouth opened and he burst out laughing, rolling onto his stomach on the bed. Draco started laughing as well, though in a more sophisticated way.

“Shit, Draco, I can’t believe you just said that,” Harry said once he managed to calm down. He had to wipe the corner of his eyes.

Draco simply grinned then threw a pillow into his face. “Go to sleep, Potter.”

He grabbed a blanket from the edge of the bed and pulled it over himself, turning away to face the door. For a long moment, Harry stared at him, unable to wipe his stupid grin off, then quickly cleaned up the sweets and papers before taking another blanket and climbing under it.

He couldn’t believe he became friends with Draco. Pretending boyfriends would be easier next day, or so he thought.

*

“ _Aguamenti!_ ”

Harry bolted upright, gasping for air as icy water splashed into his face.

“What the hell, Draco?!” He coughed, hastily murmuring a warming and drying spell then glaring at Draco.

“I transformed your pillow into a rat first,” he shrugged, then grinned. “Guess it wasn’t drastic enough. Merlin’s beard, where do you live? Are you used to rats?”

“Well, I slept with you!” Harry retorted then froze a second later, when he realized the meaning of his words. Draco was staring at him wide-eyed, though his grin was still plastered on his face. Harry felt his cheeks starting to burn. “Err, I mean-”

With a sneer, Draco threw a wet towel into Harry’s face. “You wish, Potter.” He stood up and went back to the bathroom to comb his hair. Harry watched him leave, noting that Draco was swaying his hips just a bit more than necessary for walking. He swallowed. This shouldn’t be happening. He was so screwed.


End file.
